The Avengers: Disney Princess Edition
by jerseydanielgibson
Summary: A female national Savior. A girl cursed by a Goddess of Nature. The daughter of a crackpot inventor. A headstrong Scottish lass. A runaway Czarina. A redhead armed with her fathers' trident. When Europe is threatened by the Queen of Atlantis armed with a lamp who wishes to release her forces to take over the planet, six Princesses are off to the rescue! [Marvel/Disney mash-up!]
1. From The Depths Below, I

_Marvel Cinematic Universe is owned by Disney. So are the Royal Dirty Dozen (what my daughters call the Disney Princesses)._

"There was once an idea; to bring together a group of remarkable people so that when we needed them, they could fight the battles...  
…that we never could."

_\- Admiral John M. Smith, Director of Operations, D.I.S.N.E.Y._

* * *

_In the depths of the ocean, a titanic figure observed all through the use of a magic mirror that revealed all. In front of the figure was a woman bathed in blue light._

"_The DJINN… has awoken. It resides along the sea, in the surface world. The surfacers would use its power…"_

_The figure turned to look at the woman who stood there, clasping a necklace in her hands._

"_But our scion knows its works as the surfacers never will. She is ready to lead. And our forces, our Fomhoraigh, will follow."_

_Beyond the titanic figure was the ocean floor littered with sea creatures armed and armored… ready for war._

"_The Seas and Lands shall be hers. And the Great Beyond mine. And as for the surfacers?"_

_The titanic figure smiles as cruel smile drags across that sinister face, eyes alight as a pale hand clutched at the magic mirror as it showed the World Above._

"_What can they do but __drown__?"_

* * *

**THE AVENGERS: DISNEY PRINCESS EDITION**

_**Song I: From The Depths Below**_

* * *

**Nighttime, Project: HELIOS, Undisclosed Location, Calais, France, September 5, 1888**

On the ancient shores of Calais, France, where once a foreign power invaded to conquer a Kingdom in a battle known as Agincourt, there existed a cavern by the sea where the cliffs of Calais and the Normandy Coast protected a secret location known only to a few, an underground laboratory set within a sea cave and populated only by a very few. Built twenty years ago in an already existing cave, the interior had been adapted for scientific research and development in a world where the newest and latest technological marvel was espoused on broadsheets and wired radio, where the new nobility was the inventor and the scientist, where firearms had mostly replaced the age of swords and the world was powered by steam. Inside the cave was one of the most advanced scientific labs in the world.

And what they were studying was, of all things, an object that looked to be a brass oil lamp.

A steam-powered yacht crashed through the waves of the French coastline as a man stood at its bow with a black long coat covering his body, but not well enough to disguise the long sword upon his left hip or the 1873 Colt .45 Single-Action Army dubbed the 'Peacemaker' at his right hip as the single-eyed man planted his foot on the spur of the bow as the boat sped through the chop of the sea with his adjutant just behind him, a woman dressed in a suit garb more befitting a man. The boat crested waves sweeping out for the coming of low tide as the deepening gloom of night settled on the French Coast as the pilot steered the twenty-foot yacht at full steam ahead, the kerosene-fueled boiler an upgrade from the more-common coal-burning steam engine ships of the world, able to travel faster and lighter than a coal vessel of the same size, giving it greater speed as well as eliminating the telltale smoke stacks of their filthier cousins. The yacht pushed ahead to the coast in good time as the one-eyed man watched intently with a steely gaze as he stood at the bow with the experience of a lifelong Navy man of Her Majesty's Royal Navy, having spent twenty years serving Queen and Country and then electing to serve a _different_ sort of organization.

The Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard.

The yacht was piloted as close to the Calaisian shore as possibly, no dock or quay existing upon the sandy strip as the one-eyed man leapt from bow to sea, landing in the ocean waters with his waterproof leather wader, seawater splashing as the man walked upon the sandy bar of the shore, exiting the English channel with his adjutant just behind him, having disembarked in the same fashion. They splashed from sea to sand where a man in in a dark evening coat over a dress shirt waited for their arrival, patiently standing in the sand with a small spotlight lantern in his hand to signify his location while disguising his position from others. The man in the black long coat approached the man with the candle-burning spotlight, his remaining eye intense, made more intimidating by the eye-patch that covered the missing one that _no one_ ever asked how it was lost.

Most were too afraid to asked the Director of Operations, Rear Admiral Jonathan Mel Smith. Not because of the man, but the potential answer.

"Agent Darling. What are we looking at?" Director Smith asked as he got within a certain distance of Commander Michael Darling, his thick English-Irish accent always giving his voice added presence whenever he spoke, like that of a caged beast waiting for the hint of freedom to cause carnage.

"That's the problem, Director. We just don't know." The London-born man replied in his crisp, clean Good Queen's English, his eyes touching upon the woman who stood just behind and next to the Rear Admiral, Agent Jane Minnie Porter. Darling motioned for the two to follow him as Michael stomped through French sand towards a sea cave a dozen meters away where a mining cart and a pair of tracks led deeper into the underground entrance, the metal cart with its springed seats tended by a man in a servants' black livery. The three of them reached the cart and got inside, with the Director and Darling in the front seat while the Director's adjutant occupied the back seat. With the three of them inside the mine cart, the lever was pulled for the oil-powered cart to travel deeper into the cave. "Doctor Fredrickson observed a strange… phenomenon occurring around the object approximately around early evening around three bells, Director. It's been going on for the past four bells without stopping, so I made the call to evacuate the laboratory." Michael explained as the cart traveled deeper into the cave, lit by oil sconces to illuminate the rocky tunnel as the tracks stopped a few moments later into a large cavern where a stone-build facility existed within its confines. Several men in sailor-like garb were pushing hand-typed documents into portfolios while others placed artifacts into cotton-lined trunks and waterproof barrels for transportation, several carts held in a line for evacuation.

"The Admiralty didn't approve of any testing, Darling." Smith reminded the man sitting next to him as the three of them exited the cart, now to be used to load more equipment out.

"He wasn't testing DJINN, Director. Bloody hell, he wasn't even in the same room!" The man replied as they walked towards the stone facility in which its door was guarded by two red-coated men armed with .303 Mk. I cartridge Magazine Lee-Metford bolt-action Service Rifles, the very weapon that the United Kingdom was going to put into service later that year to replace that Martini-Henry Rifle. "Unassisted activation." Michael Darling explained, not a man to give into rash decisions or beliefs as they past by the two armed Royal Marines, saluting the Admiral as they passed through the portal that led them deeper into the laboratory.

"Are you saying that it just turned itself on?" Jane Porter asked in disbelief, her eyes wide.

"What's it doing now?" The Director asked, more focused on what they could do as oppose to how it happened.

"Increasing. You can even hear it." The man replied as he led them towards the main chamber. "When Fredrickson couldn't figure out what was causing it or leech away the growing energy, that's when I called for the evacuation."

"How long to get everyone out?" John Smith asked, his remaining eye boring on the male Agent at his side.

"Two quarter-bells until the laboratory is fully evacuated and everything inside removed, Admiral."

"Do better." The Director commanded, his tone saying it all; achieve the possible or face his fury. Michael Darling saluted him and turned to do just that.

"Admiral, evacuation may be futile." Jane said softly, her eyes on the coxswains and bosuns' mates loading up gear into hand-pulled carts to bring it to the evacuation point. There was still a great deal to be removed.

"We should tell them to take a break?" Smith asked with a snort as they walked deeper inside the laboratory, almost to the main chamber.

"Sir, if we can't contain or control DJINN's activation, there may be no way of predicting how far of a disaster this might be." Porter had read the transcripts of the last time DJINN had been used, what had sparked a meteorological event in the middle of a battle nearly a quarter-century prior. Smith had to admit to himself that Jane was likely correct in her assessment. The last time DJINN had been activated, the world had been threated (and subsequently saved) by a hot-air balloon aviatrix. It was his job to make sure that such calamities never happened again.

"Jane, I need you to make sure that all of the prototypes are secured and shipped out." Smith turned to his direct subordinate, leveling his remaining eye at her.

"Is… that really a bloody priority right now?" Porter asked, a little tiffed at the thought that equipment, not lives, were more important.

"Until such time as the Rapture comes, we will ensure that everything in God's green earth will continue on, Deputy Director." John replied a little frostily, though he couldn't blame Jane her sentiments. He needed her for her sentimentality, something he had lost long ago. "Clear out the prototypes, and make sure that every pieces is on a boat and gone."

"Aye aye, Admiral." Commander Jane Porter saluted him, her fingers to her brow with her palm facing outward as she turned to execute his commands as the Director sighed, knowing that later on he was going to have to pay with a little feminine wrath for his decision. Yet every man and woman who had joined the Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard knew that their lives were expected to be given to the greater good, for Queen, God, and Country. In the ear of ever-advancing technology and more dangerous weapons, the British Empire was the defender of its people, its colonies, and the light in which humanity followed. In order to stop the threats from ever happening, the Directorate stayed on top by means of intrigue, espionage, nautical power, and advanced weaponry to keep countries in line to prevent more devastating wars and mishaps from happening. With that thought, Rear Admiral Smith turned towards the last door needed in the laboratory to where the testing chambers held a device of unmeasurable magical properties.

A mystical brass lamp that went by the name of Codename: DJINN.

* * *

Director John Smith entered the testing chamber of the secret facility to find an ancient man walking with the assistance of a four-legged walker moving to a pressure gauge, his eyes made to appear larger behind his thick glasses as he monitored the gauge. The man was suited as if he had just stepped off the Oxford Campus, wearing a traditional laboratory coat as a few other researchers and scribes annotated what was happened. Smith saw the ancient doctor with his full head of white hair and wrinkled face frowning at what he was seeing as he turned a knob to let off steam from a nearby value to either drop the temperature or pressure from a specially-made boiler that didn't contain water or fuel.

"Doctor Carl Fredrickson, talk to me." Smith asked the old Doctor of Advanced Theory, one of the pioneers of the steam engine and the telegraph. A master innovator and the creator of over a dozen advancements, Fredrickson had been hired to study DJINN for its potential use in energy containment and usage. The one-eyed man looked to the object of question, what looked to be a highly-polished brass oil lamp complete with a curving handle and lid. Where it had come from and what had created it (or specifically, what was _inside_ it) was up to both guesses and legends, anything from a prison made by the Gods or a house for a supernatural force. Smith only believed in one God, and He certainly didn't vacation in a fluted pot. "Is there anything we know for certain?"

"DJINN is misbehaving." Doctor Fredrickson replied, his rheumy eyes and warbling voice attracting Smith's attention, barely louder than the insistent headache-producing noise coming from the glass container that housed a lamp but made strong enough to contain something _far_ worse if necessary.

"Are you taking the piss?" The blond-haired man asked the Doctor.

"No, it's not meant to be funny at all." Fredrickson replied as he adjusted another valve, grumbling. "The lamp is not only active, she's misbehaving. I'm getting readings that make no sense to me or to anyone else, and she's continuing to grow."

"How soon until you deactivate the power source?" The Director asked.

"The power is self-generating; the lamp is producing it itself." That had Smith frown; this was almost exactly like what happened a quarter-century prior. "If she continues to produce energy that we can't leech or draw away, she'll reach what I call critical mass."

"We've prepared for an eventuality like this, Doctor." John reminded the old man, looking at the glass container that held the lamp and the boiler meant to contain what it could produce. "Ninth Wave energy."

"We don't have the siphon." Fredrickson reiterated, frowning at a dial as he tapped on it to ensure accuracy. "Our theory is hardly complete. Now she's pulsating with power, weak radiation force. Nothing harmful, low levels of natural energy."

"Natural energy can be harmful." Smith replied, thinking of an incident in the Pacifica only a few years prior. "Where's Nikolaevna?"

"Ha! The Orphan?" The old man turned his head slightly and jutted his chin at a particular direction as he adjusted his monocle. "Over in the shadows, as usual." Smith turned to see that one corner of the laboratory where shadows prevailed, and even his steely gaze couldn't find the woman in question. Which… was half the point of her trade craft, after all. He never needed to say her name as an auburn-haired woman wearing a dark green leather jacket and a black Greek Fisherman hat emerged from the shadows, her jacket hardly concealing the presence of the _many_ revolvers she had on her, curved hilts sticking out from her sashed waistband, from under her arms, and the pair strapped to her thighs. The woman whose name was whispered as _Orphan Black_ slid out of the shadows and walked towards the Director, his little Russian gunslinger coming into view.

"Agent Anastasia Romanov, I gave you this duty so you could keep a close eye on things." The Director told the auburn-haired woman, her tresses tucked into her Greek hat as she stood before him.

"Well, I work better in the dark." The daughter of Nicholas replied with a little bit of a smirk, a talent she had unfortunately learned from a rather difficult Russian mystic who had the extraordinary knack of being impossible to kill.

"Have you seen anything that could explain the cause of this?" The big issue was the obvious; someone touching DJINN and rubbing it. That was the last thing anyone needed.

"No one's even gotten close to the case, much less the lamp." Ana replied, her tone dead serious. "No wired telegraphs, no letters or couriers, not even small talk between employees about what it is or what it can do." Romanov wasn't the only thing best left in the dark, Smith thought with no pun intended. "If there was any kind of interference, it wasn't from our side of things, Admiral."

"_Our_ side?" John caught the phrase. Like both himself and Michael Darling, Anastasia Romanov had brushed with superordinary forces and knew there was more to the world than met the eye.

"The lamp is a container for a pocket world that houses some supernatural deity, right? Means there's someone on the inside knocking on the door." The Russian woman replied, her blue eyes on the object in question. Doctor Carl Fredrickson began cursing as he backed away from the monitoring devices as John Smith looked over to DJINN to see a slowly expanding bubble of energy growing within the glass cube in which the lamp was placed in, almost as if it were filling with water. Both he and Anastasia backed away as the container was completely filled with… whatever it was, the metal hasps and glass walls creaking and splintering as bolts groaned with effort to contained what was within as the container failed, erupting in shards of glass and metal with a thunderous clap of power as Smith staggered back, shielding his face with a hand as he looked over to where the lamp sat exposed.

And standing in front of it was a scantily-clad armored woman with white hair, sinister blue eyes, and a polearm in one hand.

* * *

Author's Note: Uh oh!

**DISNEY FACT**: Snow White is the only Disney character to have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and the first fictional character to do so.

_MARVEL FACT_: Samuel L. Jackson portrays Director Nick Fury in two different medias; Sam Jackson's likeness was used in Earth-1610/Ultimate Universe to recreate the aging look of the original Nick Fury. When Jon Faverau added the teaser-trailer at the end of _Iron Man_ well after production, Sam was asked to play the real-life version of a comic portrayal based on his own likeness.

REAL LIFE FACT: Walt Disney Company acquired Marvel Entertainment on August 31, 2009 for $4.24 _billion_ dollars. I think they probably made their money back since then. About five times over.

WHY ISN'T THIS A CROSSOVER? Because there isn't a 'singular' category for the princesses, each of them with their own movie. And since Disney owns the Avengers anyhow... I found a loophole ;-)

Recreating a sort of steampunk Victorian-Era 1880's was a bit fun, and I think I'm going to enjoy delving into SteamTech. Especially when you meet some of the rest of the persons involved.

Calais, France is a real-life location, where Henry V invaded France in the Battle of Agincourt to conquer a large portion of that country (later liberated by the Saint of Lorraine, Joan d'Arc). This is also the location that Hitler was all but dead-certain that D-Day/Operation: Overlord would occur.

John Smith is the male protagonist from the movie _Pocahontas_. Voiced by Mel Gibson. Jane Porter is the female protagonist from the movie _Tarzan. _Voiced by Minni Driver. Michael Darling is the youngest male protagonist of the Darling Family from the movie _Peter Pan_. Doctor Carl Fredrickson is the older male protagonist from the Pixar movie _Up_. Anastasia Romanov is the female protagonist from the movie _Anastasia_ (as well as being a real-life person). She is not the Hawkeye, but the Black Widow. The lamp (DJINN) is the lamp from the movie _Aladdin_. Ninth Wave Energy comes from the live-action movie _John Carter_. Radiation hadn't been 'discovered' by Madame Marie Currie yet.

Weak Radiation Force is, in fact, a real-life thing, and one of the four powers of the universe, along with gravity, electromagnetism, and strong radiation force.

Carl mentions that 'low levels of natural energy' weren't harmful, but John Smith indicates they, in fact, can be dangerous. This is a hint for another Princess.

Middle names are based on the voice actors of the movies save for Anastasia; she is known as 'Nikolaevna', which means 'daughter of Nicholas' in Russian.


	2. From The Depths Below, II

_Marvel Cinematic Universe is owned by Disney. So are the Royal Dirty Dozen (what my daughters call the Disney Princesses)._

**Nighttime, Project: HELIOS, Undisclosed Location, Calais, France, September 5, 1888**

Director Jonathan Mel Smith was less-than-pleased with the state of current events. That usually had people scrambling to turn his mood around or bad things happened.

Smith looked at the woman, easily as tall as he, his eye noting that this was no ordinary woman even if her entrance hadn't been something to note. She wore armor on her arms and shins, an ocean blue-tint kind of steel bracers and greaves that one saw on medieval armor or in historical plays. A belted loincloth draped over her intimates and inner thighs, but not her exposed abdomen. A steel corset adorned her upper torso the same ocean blue color, patterned to look like scalemail, small disks that looked like the scales of fish that also lifted her breasts up and together. A stole and cape hung from her armored shoulder pauldrons, this time more royal blue in color as the woman with white hair wore a tiara that doubled as a protective face mask, a strip coming down to protect the nose, seemingly made of gold. Her face was unlined or marred by age, hinting that she was neither a youth no reaching middle age; a woman in the full bloom of her beauty. Yet the color of her skin was pale, _very_ pale, as if it had never seen the light of day. If Smith had to put a name to that color, he would have called it _fishmeat white_. In her left hand there was a polearm, a halberd; a curved spear-like blade that could impale, slice, or chop into its foes, and the opposite end had a large metal ball for bludgeoning armored opponents to break bones underneath armor. The crystal that dangled from her neck and in between her breasts glowed an aquamarine color, illuminating her in a watery light.

The woman was regal. She was standing tall. And there was no mercy or thought of conversation in her demeanor as her head lifted up, her face sheened with sweat as she smiled with a sinister aire.

"Ma'am? I need you to please put down the polearm." Smith called out as hie right eye noted that four DISNEY Agents were already converging on the spot where the woman stood, their .303 Mk. I cartridge Magazine Lee-Metford bolt-action Service Rifles pointing at the woman as the four red-coated men approached with armed caution. They never said a word, letting the gun barrels emphasizing the point they wished to make.

Smith's words had an effect on the newcomer as she looked at the polearm that was in her left hand, seemingly noticing it in her grasp for the first time with a look that was either bewildered or in wonderment as her blue eyes cast over the halberd. She then looked up with pitiless eyes as the jewel at her breast glowed with intensity and the woman thrusted the halberd forward.

And _something_ shot forth from its heavy head.

The Director felt himself getting knocked to the side as the blast sailed over him, striking a table with beakers filled with chemicals as Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov tackled him to one side, the Orphan sparing him from being hit by… whatever it was that the woman had fired from a damn bladed _stick_. He landed on his back as the four armed DISNEY Agents immediately responded with gunfire without needing to be told, four rounds of three-line caliber rifle bullets striking the woman almost in unison. To Johns' amazement, the woman only jerked slightly aback as the rounds struck her armor… ricocheting right off. The white-haired trespasser then leapt forward, easily clearing a dozen paces with her polearm ready to strike as the Agents worked their bolts to chamber another round as she landed in front of one red-coated Agent, impaling him with the spearpoint of her halberd in his chest, the man crying out in pain as she shoved the bladed lance downward to bring him to the ground on top of the Agent that had been beside him. The two Agents who stood opposite of the strike fired again, the rounds ricocheting once more as the woman removed her spearpoint from the downed Agent, spun about as her right hand casted forward. Smith got to his feet as he saw two dagger-like… _spines_… jutting out of his mens' necks, the both of them falling from their injuries.

The halberd fired again, striking towards one of the laboratory assistants as two more DISNEY Agents ran forward with their Lee-Metford Rifles at the ready as Anastasia came up with a Smith and Wesson .44 Russian Revolver in hand, hammered cocked back as two three-line caliber bullets fired from bolt-action rifles as the Orphan fan-fired her six-shot revolver, actually staggering the assaulting woman. Smith finally got to his feet, his hand slipping to his own 1873 Colt .45 Single-Action Army as his eye settled on the actual thing that mattered; DJINN. Using the confrontation as a distraction, the Director moved over to the fallen brass lamp, using a part of his long coat to cover his hands when he went to pick it up. Bad things happened when people rubbed its surface, and he wasn't taking chances. He watched the battle as he retrieved the lamp, seeing the woman firing another bolt that struck a DISNEY Agent, turning the man into ash and cinder instantly, crumbling to the ground. The woman didn't stop as she kicked the other Agent in the chest, sending him flying back to crash into the cavern wall an easy dozen paces away, the sound of snapping bones accompanying the impact as he fell the rest of the way to the ground.

The woman stood there with her halberd pose, looking for the next threat.

As Smith was slipping DJINN into a small wood container for protection (both its and himself), he saw the white-haired woman rush Romanov as she got up from avoiding being struck before, pulling out another .44 Russian Revolver as the attacker blocked the former Czarina's arm to prevent herself from being shot, gripping Anastasia's wrist. Even from where he knelt, putting a lid on the small container, John could see the pain in Nikolaevna's face, trying to free herself but unable to do so. Smith found a cord to tie the lid to the container and began wrapping it around the small wooden box.

"You… have spirit, daughter of Nikola." The white-haired woman spoke for the first time, her tone harsh, grating, with an accent the Director didn't readily recognize. As he wound the cord around the container and began to tie it, he watched as the assailant press the tip of her halberd into the Russian woman's bosom as the necklace glowed, light infusing into Anastasia's chest.

"_B-bozye moy__, izvinitye!"_ Nikolaevna gasped as a look of fear entered her face as she looked at Smith as the light that entered her chest crawled up her neck, onto her face, and into her eyes, turning them completely white as her face went slack, the fear draining away as the woman let go of Romanov's wrist.

Anastasia holstered her loaded revolver at her hip without word or qualm, her pupil-less eyes and emotionless face looking right at the woman as if in expectation of orders.

Director John Smith couldn't believe what he was seeing as he finished binding the rope around the container as he saw the woman press the halberd into another DISNEY Agent, the same light entering the red-coated man as it had with Anastasia, his eyes going white as the former Royal Marine ceased struggling against the assailant. _I need to leave_, Smith thought as he secured the small wooden box and quietly moved away from the situation.

"Please don't. I am in need of that."

Smith stopped in his tracks, being addressed by an accented feminine voice.

"This doesn't have to end well." Smith tossed off the causal threat as he assessed the woman, not liking what conclusion he had come up with. With what he had seen and what he had at the moment, flight was his best option; not something he was proned to doing.

"Of course it doesn't." The polearm-wielding woman replied with a sense of satisfaction, as if that was what she wanted. "I've waited too long for anything else." The white-haired woman's proclamation didn't comfort the Director one bit, especially with the sight of her cruel sneer and her rather fantastical-looking armor. She looked to have stepped off of a play or some fairy tale.

"I am Empress Kidagakash Nedakh, rightful ruler of Atlantis and the Seven Seas." The woman proclaimed in her strange accent, her too-blue eyes looking at Smith as if he were insignificant.

"And I have come burdened with glorious tidings."

* * *

In the middle of a laboratory where an old physicist was crouching down to check upon the life of one of his assistants, an Admiral stood holding onto a small wooden crate, a red-coated man armed with a rifle stood motionless along with a Russian woman carrying several revolvers, and a white-haired interloper wearing unusual armor and bearing a halberd and some sort of glowing jewel dangling from her neck. There were at least four bodies laying upon the ground, two having been impaled by the bladed long arm and another two with quill-like spines coming out of their necks as Rear Admiral John Smith found himself facing against a woman who had appeared courtesy of a magical lamp with two of _his_ men standing as still as statues instead of engaging the obvious threat or standing at his side as he carried a small container housing something truly dangerous.

"I am Empress Kidagakash Nedakh, rightful ruler of Atlantis and the Seven Seas. And I have come burdened with glorious tidings." The white-haired woman in scale armor that looked to be akin to fish scale proclaimed proudly, standing majestically in the laboratory.

"Kida? Sister to the Sea King Mahannan? Aunt to the Princess of Tides?" Doctor Carl Fredrickson said in a shocked tone as he knelt beside one of his assistants, the woman in question laying injured and unconscious from a blast from the halberd when it had struck a research table. The elderly Physicist was looking at the woman in question as her too-blue eyes glanced over to the elderly man with a vicious face, as if the reminder didn't sit well with her. Smith knew well of the incident involving a golden trident, a lost 'sailor', and a gigantic octopus-like monstrosity that struck and nearly destroyed the town of Londonderry, Ireland if not for the intervention of four seaborne warriors and a woman claiming herself to being the Princess of Tides.

"We have no sanctions against the Kingdom of Atlantis." Smith declared truthfully, knowing of the lost continent and its people thanks to a celebrated national hero nearly a century prior who had won the heart of a mermaid who had taken to England's side during the Napoleonic Wars, the Wolf of the Nile securing many a victory on the seas thanks to the Princess of Tides. Yet Atlantis was a _Kingdom_, not an _Empire_, and the Admiral feared something dreadful might have happened beneath the waves of the world. Considering Atlantis was the _de facto_ authority of the four oceans and seven sea, not to mention that sailing and steaming the seas was of vital necessity to so many nations on the world, a regime change could only spell disaster.

"A minnow has no sanctions against a shark." The so-called Empress declared, her tone smug.

"Are you planning on chomping on us?" Smith asked, feeling a very realistic fear flooding his veins. And he wasn't a man to frighten easily as his remaining eye went on Romanov, who still stood there looking at him with her colorless eyes, transfixed.

"I come with bountiful tides." The white-haired woman replied with a sinister smile as she graced the laboratory, her eyes briefly on Doctor Fredrickson as he stood with help from his walker as Kidagakash moved towards Smith by a few paces, her face alight with authority. "Of the surface world made equal." The armored woman informed, her tone _too_ cheerful.

"Equality? From what?" John asked, not believing the droll woman in the least.

"Equality itself." The Empress replied, smiling deeply as she faced the one-eyed man. "Equality is the Gods' greatest deception, their greatest lie told. Once you realize that, in your heart," Kida turned and thrusted the tip of her halberd towards Doctor Carl Fredrickson, pressing it against his chest as her jewel glowed, a white light piercing the Physicists' chest.

"E-Ellie…" The old man whimpered in sorrow as the light crawled up his skin, his eyes turning white as his wrinkled face relaxed, the same thing happening to him as it did to Agent Anastasia Romanov.

"…you will know content." The interloper delivered with a harsh whisper, Smith seeing Carl standing like the others who had been corrupted by the halberd.

"You say content, but I think you mean quite the opposite." Smith replied, noting that there was the sound of groaning metal behind him, a sound he knew of well; the sound of a over-pressurized boiler. Considering the size of it, its rupture would in all likelihood collapse the entirety of the cavern with _Project: HELIOS_ along with it. If it buried the woman and the dangerous object in his hand to where no one could ever mess with it again, he wouldn't mind that particular outcome. He was an Englishman; it was his duty to serve God, Queen, and Country, to give his life if necessary for the benefit of Britannia.

"Your Majesty, Admiral Smith is playing for time." Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov spoke, walking towards the so-called Empress, eying the massive boiler the size of a sixth-rate frigate as it continued to groan, the hiss of steam escaping microscopic weak points. "That boiler is about to explode and bury us all within this cavern. He means to entomb us all."

"Like the Titans locked away in Tartarus." Smith replied, his turn to level a smile at the white haired-woman.

"He's right, the boiler is reaching critical temperatures and pressure." Doctor Carl Fredrickson replied, looking to a series of gauges close by, adjusting his spectacles. "We have perhaps a few ticks of the minute-hand before it reaches the red zone and either boils us alive or fills us with metal grapeshot."

"So be it." The Empress merely turned to look at the Orphan, who without word, order, or even looking at the woman who declared herself the Empress of Atlantis, quick-drew one of her Smith and Wesson .44 Russian Revolvers while cocking back the hammer with her opposing hand at the same time and shot Director Smith right in the center of his chest, the Rear Admiral losing the container he was holding onto as he fell back from the gunshot, laying back on the floor of the laboratory. Smith felt himself lying on his back, consciousness fleeting as he gazed over to see Anastasia picking up the small crate containing DJINN as Kida, Doctor Fredrickson, Romanov, and another DISNEY Agent walked towards the exist of the laboratory as the massive boiler within continued to groan with pressure as the Director blinked and fought off to stave merciful blackness as his hands tore open his dress shirt to reveal a thick weave of spider silk underneath, the .44 caliber round having struck the expensive weave and stopped it before it penetrated his body and heart. John sat up slightly and pulled the bullet from the Hong Kong-imported bulletproof vest with a grunt, the pain of being shot still there without the addition of having a bullet in him as he looked over to a device that _should_ have been activated at the off-set but the situation having spiraled out-of-control before anyone realized their folly as John staggered up on his feet, feeling all of his sixty years as he stumbled towards the table where a device with a rotating handle laid.

And he began to spin the handle of the sea raid siren, its piercing cry echoing throughout the cavern.

* * *

Author's Notes: The plot thickens!

**DISNEY FACT**: Dumbo is the only main character in the Disney Franchise not to have a voice actor, considering he doesn't talk. A not-talking animal in Disney? Who knew?

_MARVEL FACT_: In the mid-90's, despite the host of television shows and the amount of groups running about in the comics, Marvel Entertainment filed for bankruptcy.

REAL-WORLD FACT: Stanley Lieber (Stan Lee) was a World War II Veteran, joining the United States Army and the Signal Corps in early in 1942 (as many did after the Attack on Peral Harbor). He ended up working along with not only Frank Capra (an Academy Award-winning director), but also Theodore Geisel. That's Dr. Seuss, by the way. He use to repair telegraph and telephone wires and communication equipment, but later went on to write scripts for military propo films, training manuals, slogans, and even cartooning. Stan Lee would also invent the 'ricochet' of Captain America's shield in 1939 Timely Comics' _Captain America #3_, something that he would use later in in the late-60's when reviving the icon.

Kidagakash 'Kida' Nedakh - The female protagonist from _Atlantis: The Lost Continent_. While (technically) a Disney Princess, she isn't included due to the fact that the movie bombed. So you get a failed Princess as a bad guy, and since there is another seaborne Princess with a sea king father in Disney lore… Kida is now the aunt of a certain mermaid.

Bozye moy, izvinitye! - (Russian) Dear God, forgive me! (This is as close as I could get to 'Romanized' Russian. I didn't want to scare people with Cyrillic.)

I mention this universe's version of _Thor_, who aided England during a time of war nearly a century prior, whose heart had been won by the Wolf of the Nile. For my British readers who get this reference, yes, that is a clear indication of Lord Horatio Nelson being the one who fell in love with a mermaid known as _The Princess of Tides_.

Bulletproof vests before Kevlar - In the 1500-1600's, when knights on horseback was still a thing, smiths would make bulletproof breastplates for knights and nobility, shooting it with a pistol to 'proof' its effectiveness. Unfortunately, powder became more effective with better materials and mixtures in the 1700's, and armor was almost negligible (and expensive even for nobility). In the late 19th Century, with trade with Hong Kong being supplied by ship thanks to the vast British Empire, _spider silk_ was created as another means of stopping a bullet. You might laugh, but Kevlar was based off the tensile strength of spider silk, which gave but didn't break. Archduke Franz Fernanidad, Crown Prince of Austria, who was assassinated and kickstarted World War I, had himself a spider silk shirt but forgot to wear it on the day he was shot and killed. Whoops.


	3. From The Depths Below, III

_Marvel Cinematic Universe is owned by Disney. So are the Royal Dirty Dozen (what my daughters call the Disney Princesses)._

**Nighttime, Project: HELIOS, Undisclosed Location, Calais, France, September 5, 1888**

Author's Note: And happy International Women's Day (3/8). Fitting I would include this considering what the story is about :-)

* * *

Commander Jane Minnie Porter, Deputy Director of Operations for the Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard, had loaded the final crates of the prototype known as _'FIREWORK'_ onto the wagon, a drover team already on the front bench and cracking the whip towards the team of horses as Porter saw the shipment traveling down the sands of Calais, France towards road that hugged the coastline. The drovers knew that waiting for them further down the coast line was a small dingy that was specifically told _not_ to fly the Union Jack, snuggled against the French coastline illegally. If it were discovered by the French Fleets, being fired upon at the thought of being privateers or pirates was the least of their worries.

The last loaded wagon gone, Jane moved to the small stable set within the cavern where the remaining horses were, the last of the men having evacuated thanks to Commander Michael Darling, only a couple having been left unaccounted for; those within the laboratory. Knowing that the Rear Admiral was there with the remaining personnel, Jane looked to the tracks where the mine cart would travel when the last of their people came to the surface, preparing the horses for them in case a speedy exit was needed. She could hear the cart rumbling from the depths of the cavern where she saw four people exiting the cart several paces away; Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, Doctor Carl Fredrickson, a red-coated DISNEY Agent she believed to be named Richard, and a woman in odd-looking armor, flesh as pale as the moonlight, and holding a polearm of some kind, being escorted by the Orphan while Doctor Fredrickson carried a small wooden crate lashed together in his hands… without his walker. The situation struck her as odd.

"We need these horses." Romanov said towards Porter without even looking at her, pointing out several of the readied steeds, saddles placed and tied upon, bridle and reins ready to go as the four newcomers went to the stables to commander the equestrian mounts. The DISNEY Agent was assisting Doctor Fredrickson upon his horse while holding the crate before handing it to the Physicist while the unknown woman when to a mount. There was something about this situation that was _very_ off as she looked towards Anastasia, surprised to see that her eyes…

…Lord, her pupils and corneas were gone!

"Who is she?" Jane asked as her hand slid easily to the Webley Top-Break .455 caliber Mk. I Service Revolver at her belt, flipping the holsters' leather flap as her hand rested on its grip.

"I didn't ask." The Russian replied without even looking towards Porter, a woman Jane had known for a few years treating her so dismissively. Jane watched as the white-haired woman with the halberd mount one of the horses with grace, putting a foot into one of the stirrups and kicking her other leg over without assistance even while in armor. The British woman slowly walked back towards where another available horse was, everything screaming at her that something was off but she didn't know how or why.

That was when she heard the ear-piercing shrill of the raid siren going off from deeper within the facility, where the laboratory was located.

Porter looked to Romanov, whose hand was already dipping towards her holstered Smith and Wesson .44 Russian Revolver on her right hip as Jane flung herself to one side behind one of the stable walls, hearing two cracks of the revolver going off, the rounds no doubt passing by where she once stood as she rolled behind the wooden wall for defense as another crack had a bullet impacting the support beam of the stable, slightly shattering it along with a spray of splinters. The Deputy Director grimaced as she heard a '_hayah!_' and the snap of leather as a multitude of iron-shodded hooves clattered against the stony floor of the cave, picking up speed. Jane pushed herself from out of her cover with her Webley revolver in hand, thumbing the hammer back and firing three times at the four fleeing horses that were heading towards the cave systems' exit. Tisking at the situation, Commander Jane Porter ran towards one of the saddled stable horses and vaulted onto the back of the steed by jumping up from its rear while assisting her leap by placing her hands on its rump and guiding her 'fall' onto the saddle as she grabbed the reins and kicked the horse into action, the equestrian animal rearing up once with a startled neigh as it began to sprint forward, the clopping of iron hooves on rocky ground echoing off the cavern walls as Jane reloaded her three spent casings in her revolver by breaking it in half, exposing the cylinders and pulling out the used shells and replacing them with fresh ones from a pouch on her belt as she snapped the Webley back into firing configuration as her horse sped off in pursuit.

Jane Porter slapped the horse's flanks with the reins in her left hand as she spurred the steed with her heels to its flanks as she bore down towards the fleeing forms of the four horses and riders heading out of the cave and towards the Calais beach, holding her Webley in her right hand as she took aim at the nearest rider, cocking the hammer back and aiming while bouncing up and down while riding on horseback. She fired at the red-coated DISNEY Agent ahead of her by a dozen lengths, the round missing as she pulled the hammer back and fired again, trying to time her shots with her steeds' gallop. The Agent twisted in his saddle to aim his .303 Mk. I cartridge Magazine Lee-Metford bolt-action Service Rifle at her, Jane sucking in a breath as she leaned forward to minimize her profile as the rifle went off, the round streaking by as the Commander pulled the hammer to cock the revolver, aiming as she leaned a little to the right of her horses' bobbing head and fired. The Agent who fired at her tumbled off of his horse, striking the stony floor of the cave and rolling from the speed of the impact as his riderless horse continued to gallop ahead with three others still barreling forward as they exited the cave with Porter in galloping pursuit as hooves hit the nighttime sandy beach of Calais.

Jane spurred her horse, leaning forward in her stirrups and saddle willing the steed to go faster as she slapped the reins against the horse's rump as she traveled over French sand, seeing the four horses with their three riders heading west into the night, going in the same direction as the wagons loaded with the prototypes Agent Darling was to transport. A few of the men meant to protect the shipment were turning about at the sight of the three approaching riders with Porter hot on their hooves as she watched the strangely-armored woman with the polearm thrust her weapon forward only to see some sort of _light_ burst from its bladed head, striking one of the DISNEY horsemen, turning much of the man and horse into ash. Porter galloped on, horrified by what she saw as she fired at the woman-in-question as she saw the riderless horse finally peter off to one side as Agent Anastasia Romanov twisted in her saddle and aimed a revolver in Jane's direction, firing while riding facing backwards. Rounds whistled on by as Porter fired back with her Webley until her hammer dropped on a spent shell. The Englishwoman cursed as she holstered the empty revolver and pulled from inside her jacket a Webley .442 Webley British Bulldog Pocket Revolver, the short-barreled revolver unspent as she thumbed back the hammer and fired once more.

Behind her, Commander Jane Porter heard the sound of what had to be the end of the world.

The Deputy Director turned her head around to see where Project: HELIOS was, secured in a cavern off the cost of France _erupt_ into a geyser of steam and rock, as if the very earth had been torn asunder. _Fredrickson's_ _boiler_, Jane realized as the explosion lit up the sky and sent a plumb of rock scattering in the sky, the Commander realized that there would be a shower of boulders coming from the sky. She turned back to look at the three getaway riders, now passing by the cargo wagons with their train of horses trying to escape catastrophe while floundering in the sand when rocks and clods of dirt began pattering and splashing all around Jane, her horse rearing up and neighing in fear as a small boulder half the size of a rowboat landing only a dozen paces away in front of her, spraying sand everywhere with its crash. Porter cursed as she got her horse under control, going around the boulder to see her quarry much further ahead since she temporarily lost the pursuit as other rocks came crashing down around her, the equestrian beats skittish and barely obeying her commands.

_Bloody hell, I've lost them!,_ Porter realized with disgust as debris rained down upon the French beach as she looked back to where the cave was.

All that was left was a smoking crater.

* * *

**Nighttime, Beach, Calais, France, September 5, 1888**

Commander Michael Darling gathered the wagons at the small concealable quay ten miles west of Project: HELIOS where a small steam-powered side-wheel ferryboat awaited where DISNEY Agents were hauling crates out of the wagons to place them on-board the seaborne vessel, carrying them from the wagons and towards the singular disposable quay dock that had been set up only a few bells prior. Eight wagons had been loaded with the prototype known as _Chimera_, a device that he had only seen once but never in full operation. A hundred had been made since the event that nearly destroyed Londonderry, Ireland, the Directorate funding a New Age weapons program to answer threats of an… unusual variety.

"Get these crates loaded into ferry quickly." Michael reminded the men as he watched two men grab a crate, hoisting it up with some difficulty before moving it down the disposable dock supported by airbags filled with hydrogen to keep the wooden walkway afloat as well as able to abandon it at a moments' notice. Darling looked back to where the cave was located to the east, frowning. He had thankfully met the timeline of getting all of the prototypes out of the small armory set within the cave and loaded up, not to mention trudging horse team and wagon through the sands of the Calais beach in a good amount of time. The ferry was merely a short-term transportation vessel to send the devices to where they _really_ needed to go, a secret amongst those of a high level of secrecy amongst the Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard. Once the crates were loaded and the ferry away, Michael could figure out what had happened at the-

Something loud exploded in the distance, sounding as if a hundred thunderclaps happened at once to the east.

Darling turned to look to where Project: HELIOS was, only to see in the distance what appeared to be a geyser of steam and debris erupting from where the cave was located, a plump of superheated water ejecting upward in such a volume that even he could see it in the pale moonlight at night. _The boiler exploded_, Michael realized with a shiver of fear, knowing just how big the boiler was and what it was meant to contain; the power to change the world. It had been a massive thing, the size of a sixth-rate vessel, with a piping system that put almost every other machine known to man to shame. It was meant to harness the power of the Gods, to contain what could potentially be an unlimited source of energy to power a country, to move away from wood and coal for heat and light. It was ambitious, of course, but it would put England at the top of the food chain for years if not decades to come, not having to rely on trade and shipments of fuel to keep its people warm. Everything ran off of either coal, wood, or oil, and shipping such commodities had its price. But the thought of having a source of fuel that didn't run out and didn't create dozens of smokestack plumbs all into the air, raining ash and soot on everything? It was a worthwhile endeavor. Plus it had helped with not too few experiments and thoughts concerning new weapons and mechanisms.

But now it looks as if the cavern that had house DJINN had erupted, the boiler that had been created to house that energy exploding.

The quaking of the ground from the explosion ceased as the disposable quay stopped bouncing about, and Michael reminded his fellow Agents to continue working, knowing that they only had a limited amount of time. That explosion could likely be heard by any of the French, and sooner or later the French Army or the French Navy would come to investigate. Heck, even just some French villager coming up to the beach to see what they were doing would be an undesirable scenario. With the amount of creates and men hauling them off the wagon and loading them onto the ferry, he figured he would be finished in a brass bell, but he wouldn't have the vessels' master and commander leave until he collected the Director and the Deputy Director as well. Dash if he would leave them on a French beach no matter who or what was coming!

When the last wagon was being unloaded, the sound of hooves upon the sand alerted Agent Darling of someone's approach as he pulled his Enfield Mk. II .476 Service Revolver from the holster on his hip, plucking a oil lantern with its hood low to minimize its light source after pulling open the searchlight cover while cocking back the hammer on his revolver as he swept the light towards the sound, seeing two people on horseback approaching the scene. The sight of a man and a woman mounted on horses calmed him somewhat considering how many DISNEY Agents had revolvers or bolt-action rifles at the ready, but when they drew closer, he confirmed their identities as Rear Admiral Jonathan Smith and Commander Jane Porter. Michael sighed in relief as he de-cocked his revolver and returned it to his leather holster after sweeping his coat back to do so as the pair of riders approached the temporary quay, heading towards him thanks to the lantern he held. Darling closed the brass cover of the spotlight and gave a decent hue to a pair of Agents standing nearby and motioned for them to take the horses as the Director and Deputy Director of Operations dismounted their steeds, their boots hitting sand as they strode towards his position a few paces away as the men took their rides and led them towards the ferry.

"We got everything and everyone out?" Admiral Smith asked, looking a little worse for wear in the moonlight and the reduced light of the lantern. Darling noted the bullet hole in his coat where his heart was nearby.

"We got the prototypes out. But we didn't evacuate the laboratory itself." Commander Darling reported, knowing that Smith had been there. It would have been up to the Director to make that call. "Everyone above the laboratory was evacuated along with the equipment, sir."

"DJINN is with a hostile force." The one-eyed man told him, making Michael's blood run cold in his veins. "We lost several either through violence or… other means." Darling wasn't sure what to make of that, but by the faces of both Smith and Porter, it wasn't good. "Commander Porter? What can you tell me?"

"That Doctor Fredrickson was carrying a crate, that Agent Romanov and another Agent shot at me, and a woman I had never seen before dressed in some sort of… it was almost like Greek or Roman armor of old, I would say, was armed with some sort of halberd that was also able to fire some sort of… projectile made up of light. I don't know how best to describe it other than that, I'm afraid." Porter looked troubled. "I had to shoot one of our own when he fired at me with his rifle. There was no way he was confused or misled. Anastasia also fired at me as well." Michael felt alarmed at that. He had known the Orphan for years now, and she had a strong, stubborn streak when it came to protecting those she considered friends or loyal. Being betrayed would do that. "My pursuit was halted when the boiler blew and I was dodging boulders coming from the sky. I lost them in the debris and night, Admiral." The troubled face swept over Jane's face again. "Sir, Anastasia's eyes were _gone_. Not the orbs, but her pupils and iris, like the eyes of a fish." Darling had no idea what to say to that.

"You were outnumbered, outgunned, and were only prevented by extraordinary means when you gave pursuit, Commander. That will be reflected in my report to the Admiralty as I accept the consequences of this." Smith replied, which didn't surprise Darling at all. There was a reason he respected the man who bore the title _Rear Admiral_ and _Director of Operations_, and it wasn't because of those titles. "The evacuation of both personnel and equipment means that this wasn't a total loss, but the theft of DJINN is our top priority. Agent Darling? Speed up our loading process, get all the men upon the boat, and have us make way as soon as we can after sinking the quay. We need to report to the Admiralty of this and get in conference with the Naval Intelligence Department. Agent Romanov knows a good deal of locations and means to aid in keeping DJINN out of our reach, and we need to get that lamp back before someone does something drastic. When we load upon the ferry, we head back to London. This is a threat to the safety and security of the United Kingdom.

"As of right now, I intend to convince the Admiralty that we are at war." The Rear Admiral said, no doubt in his voice whatsoever.

"What do we do?" Darling asked, at a loss. With such a dangerous object on the loose, the loss of a secretive laboratory, and the thief being something unlike anything Michael had ever heard of, he wasn't sure what a practical solution would be. He saw the Admiral look out to the English Channel, its dark waters lapping the French coast as he took a few step towards it, obviously introspective.

"I'm going to activate the Marvel Initiative."

* * *

Author's Notes: No helicopters were harmed in the making of this chapter.

**DISNEY FACT**: The movie _Snow White And The Seven Dwarves_ (1939) took four years to complete and was severely over-budgeted. Those in the film industry who caught wind of it called it "Disney's Folly" and predicted it would bankrupt Walt Disney and the Walt Disney Company. It cost $1.5 million dollars to make (in 1939 dollars) and received over $8 million in the box office, making it the highest-grossing sound movie of all time until the release of _Gone With The Wind_. Due to its many re-releases in theater as well as the home release, it has made $418 million dollars.

_MARVEL FACT_: The 'first' movie involving a Marvel character (as the 1944 films of Captain America were owned by Timely Comics at the time, the pre-cursor to Marvel Comics) was the very raunchy _Howard the Duck_. It was originally to be an animated film, but was made a live-action movie, produced in conjunction with Universal Studios and LucasFilms. It was a box office failure and considered one of the worst movies of all time.

REAL-WORLD FACT: The first depiction of a Marvel character on television was _The Amazing Spider-Man_, a made-for-television movie that was the backdoor for the television series starring Nicholas Hammond (the father in _The Sound Of Music_). It pre-dates _The Incredible Hulk_ made-for-television movie by two months, and _The Amazing Spider-Man_ had thirteen episodes despite being considered a Neilson Rating success.

Creating a sort of 1888 Victorian Era/Steampunk version of the Marvel Universe with a Disney cast is certainly an effort, but I'm enjoying making similarities with the technology of the late-19th Century along with some 'inclusions' of early-20th Century technology, bending a little time and space thanks to some of the veritable geniuses of that time with an Industrial World about to be smacked hard with a much more modern world. You'll see this with my version of Tony Stark, played by the daughter of an inventor (and that's your hint for another Disney Princess).

The 'swing-out' revolver (what we see today) wasn't invented until the 1899 (the S+W Model 10, the most selling handgun of the 20th Century). Before then, revolvers were loaded in three ways; through a gate one at a time like one sees with the old 1873 Peacemakers (called side-loading), extraction in which the entire cylinder can be removed (which you see with ball-can-cap revolvers like the 1860 Army), and then the 'top-break' in which the gun was folded in half, exposing the back end of the cylinder. You can see a top-break revolver in _3:10 To Yuma_ with Ben Foster's character (and one character even references its legendary terrible accuracy due to its weak frame issues). These revolvers were fast loading (they even had speed clips back then) but wore out fast since the breaking point was at the rear sight/hammer that held the revolver together along with the pivot point just forward of the trigger. Smith and Wesson invented the 'side-opening' swing that we know of today, revolutionizing the revolver forever. Can you imagine reloading a revolver one round at a time (old brass out, new brass in, rotate, repeat) in battle? That was what the OK Corral was like!

The Webley Top-Break is a bit of an ugly revolver; American Revolvers certainly had a look and feel thanks to the old west and the gunslinger (which Europe never had). To this day, America still holds the standard for the revolver, none made in Europe or Russia even coming close in prestige or quality save the Webley and the Enfield Mk. I. Which is why Director Smith has a Colt '73 Peacemaker while Porter has an English Revolver. Having Anastasia with the '.44 Russian' Model just makes sense… in which that model changed bullets forever with the 'internally lubricated' round that made riflings better as well as less jamming and debris with 'external lubrication' of before. Colt might have invented the revolver, but Smith and Wesson invented much what we know today.

The Webley British Bulldog is a pocket revolver, a small revolver meant for self-defense for the gentleman while on the streets (or the gambler at the card table). While bigger than the Derringer, it is a short-barreled weapon with only enough powder behind the round to put a bullet in a man from a short distance away. Think of a snub-nose .38 or even the classic .25 Saturday Night Special in the late 1800's for an idea.

The Webley British Bulldog is also responsible for the death of an American President, James Garfield, in 1881, murdered by a disgruntled lawyer who paid ten dollars for a revolver (he neglected to get the ivory grips because it cost an extra dollar despite knowing that the gun would end up in a museum. It did, actually; the Smithsonian).

In 1888, the British were still using Imperial/SI units, as the first 'treaty' for Metrication was signed in 1889 and didn't fully change the system until the 1970's. To this day, there are still SI units in England.

The Naval Intelligence Directorate was a real-life intelligence agency created in 1882, focused on 'foreign' intelligence (usually ship signals, vessel patrols and fleet compositions). Spycraft in those days was a far cry to what would later occur in World War I and II. But espionage has existed since the Trojan War with Odysseus' horse, and likely even well before the first Kingdoms (Sumeria) with scouts, bribes, torture, and double-dealing merchants.

Sorry, I couldn't call it the '_Avenger Initiative_'. Instead, I called it the Marvel Initiative. You'll be seeing why later.

Now cue the glorious title and music for the Avengers… here!


	4. From The Depths Below, IV

_Marvel Cinematic Universe is owned by Disney. So are the Royal Dirty Dozen (what my daughters call the Disney Princesses)._

**Morning, War Office, Whitehall, London, England, September 6, 1888**

The river steamer had plowed through the River Thames in good time, having brought Rear Admiral Jonathan Mel Smith to London by mid-morning, having traveled from Calais to the shores of England, the sea-worthy ferry that the Director of Operations for the Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard had taken landing in Southend-on-Sea earlier that morning where he caught a river transport to travel upstream the River Thames along with Commander Jane Minnie Porter and Commander Michael Darling, who had witnessed most of the events concerning the destruction of _Project: HELIOS_. The Director would have used a train, but the next one to London would have meant waiting two hours along with a stop and Basildon and Ilford, while the river steamer, a part of the Royal Navy, merely took his orders to steam full-ahead upriver straight to London. Despite the slower speed, he made it to the capital sooner than if he had taken the train, which pleased him.

About the only thing that went bloody right the past day, the one-eyed man thought to himself.

When the steamer docked at the London Wharfs, Smith exited the vessel along with Agents Porter and Darling, knowing that the next portion of their lives wouldn't go bully for them; a review made in front of the Admiralty at the very least, perhaps even more. The three of them disembarked the steamer with their feet hitting the cobbled stones of London Proper where the London Bridge and Buckingham could be seen further down stream, along with Big Ben and the Old Bailey. Smith took a deep breath, smelling the hint of chill in the air along with the slight fumes of coal dust from the many smoke stacks of oil and coal factories that populated the great city. The London Wharfs was populated by dock workers and citizenry on their daily business, and Smith saw that the Admiralty had been at least expecting him; beside the Wharfs was a DISNEY Agent beside a leStarq Intercontinental's _Voiture à Moteur Fantastique_, the motor buggy a four-wheel, four-person contraption that had won the _Intercontinental Grande Prix _six years prior with inventor and genius Clarence leStarq's daughter as it's motor jockey by outracing nine other models from around Europe. Really, it was just another leStarq contraption that the French flouted with their darling genius inventor and his up-and-coming daughter.

"Admiral, I am to take you to the War Office post-haste." The DISNEY Agent beside the motor buggy relayed to him, giving him a British salute as the man eyed the other two with him. "While they didn't mention others, I believe it would be wise that all of you go."

"Thank you, Jarvis." The Director replied as he went to the uncovered contraption, turning to give a hand to Commander Jane Porter to ascend onto the vehicle via its sideboard as a Englishman should as Commander Michael Darling climbed up the other side, the both of them taking the back padded bench seat as John climbed on himself, sitting on the left side while Master Chief Petty Officer Edwin Jarvis took to the right where the steering lever was situated. Using an electric ignition coil, the older gentleman turned on the electric engine that was powered by a revolutionary kind of battery that the English hadn't quite figured out what it was comprised of, reverse engineering having not created a suitable likeness yet. Then there was the fact this it also had a hydrogen fuel cell generator to keep the battery charged. The _Fantastique_ could travel completely across the Kingdom at speeds better than a horse without having to stop once unless the _drover_ got tired. Belladonna had done just that six years prior, beating her vehicular competition as well as a famous American long-distance racer named Frank Hopkins and his mustang Hidalgo.

A part of him hated the thought of such '_technology'_. But considering what he was the Director for and what he had in his purview, he just dealt with it.

The motor buggy drove through the cobbled streets of London, Director John Smith watching Englishmen passed by as they drove towards Whitehall, where a majority of the power of the English Government came from. He knew that the next few hours would be filled with a very painful meeting with the Admiralty describing the events and failures of what happened at Project: HELIOS, but honestly he couldn't see how anyone could have expected or prepared for such a thing. And DISNEY had taken the situation quite seriously.

When they had arrived, it was all the Rear Admiral could do to think about how he was going to convince a bunch of chair-bound shipless admirals what needed to be done.

_Might as well ask for Parliament for a bigger budget while attempting other miracles_, Smith thought ruefully as the motorized buggy reached the War Office of the United Kingdom.

* * *

"This is out of your depths, Admiral." Lord Admiral John Ratcliffe drolled out as the hook-nosed man sat in his padded seat behind a desk along with five other Vice Admirals of the Admiralty, those who were the power behind not only the British Fleet, but also the War Office. Ratcliffe had the room cleared out of all other personnel save for a naval recorder, as the Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard was a secretive organization that the War Office used to ply its power without getting the British Fleets involved and starting either a war or a situation that could drag the United Kingdom's name in the mud. "You are dealing with forces that you cannot control." The Lord Admiral said in his polished tone, leaning forward upon his desk with his elbows resting upon it.

"Have you ever been in a war, Lord Admiral? Having been fired upon by cannon or rifle?" Rear Admiral Jon Smith asked in return, standing before the Admiralty. He knew the answer to his own question. "Has there ever been a man who felt like they had an abundance of control in such things?" The meeting was meant to disclose and debrief the events in which Project: HELIOS had been destroyed by a force unforeseen. Instead, it had turned into a gauche political finger-pointing episode where members of the Admiralty were trying to see who would take the blame as if any one of them happened to be there. Despite the written reports done by himself, Commander Jane Porter, and Commander Michael Darling, it seemed the play of the day would be _who is going to take the fall for this_ instead of _how are we going to resolve this situation._

"You are telling me that this…" The hook-nosed man scoffed, "_Atlantis_… is declaring war on our kingdom?" Ratcliffe scoffed at such a thought as the lost continent. Despite evidence from one of England's greatest heroes and report on how the Battle of the Nile, the Battle of Gibraltar, and the Battle of Trafalgar was won not just by British vessels and sailors, but by a seafaring Princess who lived _beneath_ the waves.

"Not the Kingdom of Atlantis. This _Empress_ Kidagakash." Smith emphasized the title _Empress_. Atlantis was a Kingdom and had never been interested in the surface world (with the sole exception of a redheaded Myr). Some of the things that the white-haired woman had said inclined for him to believe that _Kida_ (what he was calling her) wasn't actually on the Coral Throne. She had proclaimed herself the _rightful_ ruler of Atlantis, and Smith knew of what she was talking about.

Kidagakash Nedakh Aegirsdottir was the eldest child of the Sea King of Atlantis… but it had been her _younger_ brother Mahannan that had gained the Starfish Crown and the Coral Throne of Atlantis, not his sister. Oh, but that hadn't been the real thorn, the Myr woman having been raised her entire life knowing she would never be Queen. King Mahannan had a certain issue that King Henry the VIII had known as well almost three hundred years prior; the man had seven daughters, and not one son.

For a woman who was born to a king his eldest child, denied the throne by tradition, only to see her eldest _niece_ be named heir and the _Princess_ of Tides? That must of rankled. Hard.

Londonderry, Ireland might have agree. Considering what happened to it fifty years prior when it was attacked by a gigantic octopus trying to pull the town beneath the waves, only to be stopped by a redhead armed with a trident.

"He can't be working alone." That was Vice Admiral Thomas Bale, normally a decent voice of reason in the Admiralty. "What of the other one we know of?"

"Historical reports indicate that Mahannansdottir is not a threat. But she's twenty thousand leagues away." Smith replied, knowing that at the least Admiral Bale was looking for options. "But we can't call out to her without the Hornblower's Sea Horn, so we can't ask her to help, either. It's going to have to be up to us." Jonathan Mel Smith was a God-fearing Englishman, and he fully believed that there was a solution. Rash decisions made for hashed consequences, and he already had something in mind.

"Which is why we should be completing the prototype." Ratcliffe reiterated, looking to his fellow Admirals. This was the third time he had brought it up. It had been his project, after all. "It was suppose to be for events such as…"

"The prototype isn't ready. Our enemy is." Smith replied, fixing his remaining eye on the Lord Admiral. "With DJINN gone, we have what we have without making more or improvements. With the lamp in Kida's hand, we need to respond.

"And I have the exact players in mind."

"The Marvel Initiative was shut down." The Lord Admiral reminded Smith, as if he had somehow forgotten. Of the six Admirals of the Admiralty, it had only been Vice Admiral Thomas Bale who had approved of the idea. Ratcliffe had been its main detractor.

"This isn't about the Marvels." Smith reiterated. Again. He was getting rather tired of repeating himself to a man who had spent nearly his entire career in the War Office.

"I've seen the list, Director." The Lord Admiral continued as if Smith hadn't spoken at all. "You're running the world's greatest clandestine security organization, and you're going to leave the fate of the United Kingdom to a handful of heathens?"

"I'm not leaving anything to anyone." The Rear Admiral replied with the same response he had given… what, fifteen minutes prior? "The facility was destroyed by an outside actor, an object of great power was taken, and men were killed in the line of duty. We need to respond. Now." Thankfully, when he spoke, he held the attention of the Admiralty. "Yes, these people may be isolated, unhinged even, but with the right motivation, I believe they can be exactly what we need them to be."

"You believe?" One of the other Admiral's asked, his tone saying it all; there was scorn in that voice. As if they all didn't attend to the Anglican Church as was proper.

"War isn't won by belief, Admiral Smith." Ratcliffe stated.

"No, it isn't." John replied as he stared the man down.

"It's won by the _brave_."

* * *

_**Fine - Song I: From The Depths Below**_

* * *

_**Song II: (All My Friends Are) Heathens**_

* * *

**Early Afternoon, War Office, Whitehall, London, England, September 6, 1888**

"Well, you survived. That's a start."

Commander Michael Darling had been sitting on a plush seat waiting for Rear Admiral Jonathan Mel Smith to leave the Admiralty Board. No one was crying out in pain or giving out a hue-and-cry due to murder, so that was a good thing.

"We got authorization to act. As if getting permission was necessary to do the right thing." The blond-haired man replied with a snort as he walked through the War Office, the proverbial storm cloud as Agent Darling walked in step with him while Ensigns and Leftenants jumped out of the way at the sight of him. "Have Porter start getting transportation of the _Secretariat_ ready along with whatever we need for a worse-case scenario. Then I need you to go to Copenhagen first, and then Paris afterwards."

"Was the Initiative approved?" Darling asked, almost stopping in his tracks. He knew what the Initiative was and who it would use. Some were… rather exotic. One was literally _centuries_ old!

"Just get to Copenhagen and interrupt our little bearslayer, would you?" Smith replied with a half-smile as he stalked off, leaving Michael in place as the Englishman realized something.

His question had never been answered.

* * *

Author's Notes: Disney? Assemble!

**DISNEY FACT**: Walt Disney holds more Oscar nominations and wins than _everyone else_ with a record 59 nominations and 22 wins. Many of these are from short films, documentaries, short subject (cartoon), and short subject (two-reel). He also holds the record for most awards won _as an individual_ in a year despite the many awards _Titanic_ won (17 nominations, 11 won) and _The Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King_ (that had a complete sweep with 11 nominations and 11 wins) as the awards went to individuals and not their director or producer unless that award is won. Bong Joon-hu did _accept_ 4 Oscars for _Parasite_, but he was specifically named for three of them (Picture, Director, Original Screenplay) while the fourth (Best International Film) was for the movie itself, not him. Walt Disney also holds the distinction of the longest consecutive streak of Oscar wins with 10 over an eight year period. There are several with doubles (one year after the next) and a few with three (mostly the technical guys involving art, production, building scenes, and music). The second most amount of nominations (and wins) is composer John Williams.

_MARVEL FACT_: Doctor Bruce Banner/The Incredible Hulk created the Avengers in the comics. He was present for exactly _one_ issue (the first one, obviously).

REAL-WORLD FACT: Due to the success of the television show _The Incredible Hulk_, Bill Bixby (who plays Doctor _David_ Banner) and Lou Ferrigno (who plays the Hulk) were intimate with later successions of the character, including _The Hulk_ (2003), _The Incredible Hulk_ (2009), and _The Avengers_ (2012). Specifically, Lou Ferrigno's voice has _always_ been used as a dub in the Hulk's live-action voice (and has done the cartoon versions solely), and Bill Bixby always makes it where he can meet the actor, and has voiced several renditions of Doctor Banner in the cartoons.

For an idea of what London looked like in the 1880's, I pulled up some old photographs and sketches, but the main source was the Disney film _Mary Poppins_, which featured a nanny/governess and a chimney sweeper in the turn-of-the-century London.

I mention Frank Hopkins and Hidalgo. Frank Hopkins was a real-life man whose memoirs were unfortunately full of crap; he wasn't selected to do the 'Ocean of Fire' Arabian race as the Arabs and Persians wrote down the name of every contestant who ever entered, and his name was never on the lists. But the movie _Hidalgo_ was cinematically a Disney film but released on VHS/DVD by Touchstone Pictures. Thus I can use it!

I make the Lord Admiral of the Admiralty John Ratcliffe, who was the antagonist of both _Pocahontas_ and _Pocahontas II_. The other named Admiral I named Thomas Bale, Thomas being the lad that John Smith saved from drowning in the first movie, who ends up following his lead. His last name comes from his voice actor, Christian Bale.

Were there 'horseless carriages' in the 1880's? Kinda. The first 'official' car was invented in 1808 by Hayden Wischet, using _hydrogen_ as a fuel source. In 1870, Siegfried Marcus invented the first diesel-powered combustion engine, putting it on a push cart. Ten years later, he invented the four-stroke gasoline-powered engine with a carburetor, magneto ignition, steering, clutch, and break, the 'grandfather' of the modern car. Unfortunately for Marcus, because of Jewish ancestry, the Nazis destroyed all of his works and erased his name from textbooks so that another German (Karl Benz) could get the credit. Nickolaus Otto patented the the four-stroke petrol (diesel) engine that provided full propulsion that constitutes the 'first' horseless carriage/auto-mobile (the name 'Otto's Mobile' coined the term 'Automobile' thanks to the British Press. The name has forever stuck thanks to this great man who literally changed the world). The first true diesel engine was invented by Rudolf Diesel. Christian Schonbein discovered the principle of the hydrogen fuel cell as a replacement for petrol in 1838. The electric car was invented by Anyos Jedlik (who invented an electric motor), and Gaston Plante (who invented _the_ lead-acid battery) in 1859. The first 'production car' goes to Karl Benz (yes… _that_ Benz) in 1885 when he made approximately 7 of the same vehicles of the same model. In 1801, Englishman Richard Trevithick was running a full-sized steam-powered vehicle on the roads of Camborne, long before the invention of the train.

Take some notes, kiddies. I love history… and I love _using_ it.

Like your teachers told you in school, you'll be seeing this material later with a certain inventor's daughter ;-) I even named her!

I included the human Edwin Jarvis. This might be the only 'Marvel' character I might use, as he was an English gentleman, though here I make him a Master Chief and a member of DISNEY.

I mention the _Secretariat_; this would be the Helicarrier, in which you will see what the 1888 version will be later on. But the name? _Secretariat _is a Disney movie about an award-winning racehorse that won the Triple Crown (three races in five weeks, including the Kentucky Derby), and I couldn't pass up using a real-life figure since Disney has a plethora of movies about real-life heroes and stories.


	5. (All My Friends Are) Heathens, I

_Marvel Cinematic Universe is owned by Disney. So are the Royal Dirty Dozen._

_**Song II: (All My Friends Are) Heathens**_

**Nighttime, Shipping Warehouse, Copenhagen, Denmark, September 6, 1888**

Author's Notes: Yes, there is a reason the name of this song arc comes from a Twenty-One Pilots song. Though I can't listen to it without flipping over to the Halestorm version.

But for now? Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to a Princess we go! One who didn't have a man winning her heart or fighting at her side. _At all_.

Pretty _brave_ lass, wouldn't you think?

* * *

Off in the distance, the sound of a steam engine and a brass whistle could be heard as a train rumbled along its cut-and-fill tracks in the waterfront of Copenhagen as four occupants took shelter in a nearby warehouse in the train yard, the wooden structure made seedy by the salty air of the _Ø__resund_ and the accompanying Baltic Sea, the wood warped and gray by the salty air. Earlier in the evening, the four persons who occupied the second floor of the warehouse had been in a gala, the social event thrown by the King of Denmark, Christian XI, for the birth and baptism of his grandson, Prince Axel. The four people in the warehouse, three of them Danish men with one of them in the uniform of a _Kontreadmiral_ of the Royal Danish Navy, the other two in dress suits. The three of them surrounded the fourth one, sitting in a wooden chair with wrists bound by rope.

One of the suited men went to the seated figure and backhanded a cheek when a question hadn't been answered to their satisfaction. There was no cry or begging involved.

"This is not how I wanted this evening to go, _kvinde_." The Danish _Kontreadmiral_ said, his hands in the pockets of his formal dress uniform where he had been spinning about with ladies half his age to the sounds of a small string quartet while enjoying the gala, the forty-year old man looking at the bound individual in the chair, green eyes turning his way as he addressed the captured person. The sight of someone such as they, known to him thanks to his position in the Royal Danish Navy, had him abandon the evenings' festivities and coming up with a impromptu plan to capture the obvious _agent provocateur_ before whatever plan was in play could commence. Thus the two members of the _Dansk kreminelle syndikat_ known as the _Syv Dværge_ who accompanied him to their little excursion in the shipping warehouse in the train yard by the _Ø__resund_ with their guest.

"I ha'e a pretty good idea how ye wanted t'is e'ening tae go, _aul min_." The thick, course accented English replied in kind from full lips, a bit of a sassy tone coming from its owner. The guest bound to the chair made little in the way of movement, stared at by three less-than-gentle men, hands bound behind the supporting back of the chair with good naval rope and a sailors' knot. One would have a hard time deciding what to look at upon the bound person; the fineness of the formal attire selected for the gala hosted by a king in honor of his grandson, or the shocking unruly hair the color of burndish sunsets or glowing coals that exploded from the scale, bound up and piled at the top of the crown where it fell back in its natural wild curls. The way the mens' eyes darted to that cloud of fiery hair, one would think that they had never seen a redhead before. "B'lieve me, t'is is better, _ya gype_."

A couple of Danish thugs and a corrupt _Kontreadmiral_ a little too deep in the exportation business? Hardly a worry for a Highlander.

Especially for Merida MacDonald of Clan DunBroch.

"And who do you think it is that I work for?" The older man asked with a smirk, standing there with a smug look upon his face as he looked at the Scottish expatriate lass bound to a chair with two muscle men beside him. Off to one side, on a re-purposed table, a few instruments gleaned from a tonsilary laid upon the wooden surface, tools meant for extracting of teeth and performing root canals. "Alan Weselton, _ja_?" That had the elder Danishman chuckling ruefully as he nodded to one of the thugs, who moved closer and pulled out a long knife from one of the sleeves of his suit, grabbing one of the Merida's ears and placing the edge where ear and head connected, both threatening and intimidating her. Well, attempting to. "Does he really believe the _Syv Dværge_ have to go through him to smuggle our cargo out of this Kingdom and into others?"

"I t'ought _aul min_ Claude Frollo was in charge o' th' exportin' bus'ness." The Highlander lass replied, her eyes touching upon the man with a dagger to her ear, ready to cut it off if necessary. "Minsky li'le Frenchie rotter t'at he is." The sharp pressure on her ear went away as the Danish thug smirked at her, his eyes lingering on the opening her corset and dress left for her bosom, pocketing the dagger back up his sleeve as he took a step or two back, the immediate threat over.

"Frollo?" The _Kontreadmiral_ chuckled as he looked to both men to either side of him as he did so gleefully, obviously enjoying the temporary amusement. "A scapegoat, a public face to take the fall when needed." The older Danish man in the Royal Danish Navy uniform took a step forward toward the bound Highlander. "Your incorrect information identifies you well." The man stood right in front of her, Merida's bare toes tucked in under the chair to keep them from being stepped on, as the man had done when they had danced earlier in the evening at the gala. "The _berygtede_ Highlander, working for the Naval Intelligence Directorate and the British War Office, and she turns out to be nothing more than another pretty _kvinde_." The older man snicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth as he turned away to walk towards the table with the instrumentation on it.

"Aww, ye t'ink ah'm pretty." The DISNEY Agent replied with a little more sass in her tone, the man having no idea that it was _she_ that was doing the interrogating. She already knew of the Frenchie, Claude Frollo, being nothing more than a patsy to the smuggling operations that sent opium throughout the European Continent and beyond. And Alan Weselton was merely a smuggler, nothing more. What she really wanted was a copy of a shipping manifesto that would list the ships and destinations of said cargo. And _Kontreadmiral_ Hans Westergaard was the primary source of that information, being the planner and organizer for the _Syv Dværge_ in Copenhagen. All she needed was for the man to think that he was in control of the situation. Strong. Tall. In charge.

Not like she hadn't faced worse before. There was that joke whispered amongst the others in DISNEY whenever they though she was out of earshot that said she was _always_ loaded for bear.

_Always_.

"You can tell Weselton that we don't need his services any longer to move the opium." _Kontreadmiral_ Westergaard said as the same thug that had his knife to her ear grabbed her face and forced opened her mouth as the older Danish man picked up a pair of pliers from the table, turning to show the redhead how they operated by opening and closing the jaws several times. "Well… you might have to send it by telegram."

There was a knock on the door to the room that they occupied in.

The three men looked to the wooden portal in concerned surprise as the _Kontreadmiral_ nodded to the other Danish thug, who moved over towards the door to reveal a man in Royal Livery, speaking of his position as a servant for His Royal Majesty, Christian IX. The thug, despite his profession, stepped to one side as Merida saw the liveried servant walk in and approach the older Danish gentleman, a little shock to see that she recognized the newcomer; it was Commander Michael Darling disguised as a Royal Courier.

"_Ja?_" _Kontreadmiral_ Hans Westergaard asked, looking to the servant of his monarch.

"There is a full broadside of eighteen-pound cannons aimed at this building as we speak." Darling said in clear Good Queen's English, his accent used in full. He wasn't even trying to hide his nationality, merely disguising himself to get close to the man. "If I don't light the signal after delivering a message to her, the frigate will open fire on your carriage before you can whip the reins." The Danish man looked at Michael in stunned shock, looking at the woman bound to the chair, and then back to the false messenger. The two thugs looked equally as perplexed as Westergaard nodded numbly his consent as Darling turned to Merida.

"We need you to report back in." _Seriously?_

"Are ye bloody kiddin' me? Ah'm workin'!" Merida replied, her tone as course as her accent.

"The Director said you would say that, and wants you to know this takes precedence." The Agent reiterated, never moving forward to free her or even arming himself to protect either one of them. He knew better.

"Ah'm in th' middle o' an interrogation. T'is _gype_ is givin' me e'erythin'!" MacDonald protested while still bound to the chair. The Danishmen were too focused on the conversation and not her hands as _Kontreadmiral_ Westergaard looked at the thugs in confusion at her declaration of _her_ interrogation. "Ye can't joost pull me outta t'is right now."

"Annie is missing, Merida."

The Scottish lass felt a chill in her blood at that proclamation. Whatever retort or defense she was ready to let loose died on her lips.

"Give us a moment t' let th' gent here get his point across." The redhead replied, Michael understanding easily what she had in mind. The disguised man proceeded to leave the room as Merida fixed her green eyes on the _Kontreadmiral_ to let him know he could proceed as he moved forward to her with a pair of pliers.

That would be a mistake; his last.

MacDonald's foot shot forward and kicked Hans Westergaard in his knee, making the man groan as he fell to a kneeling position in front of her, gasping in pain as Merida introduced him to her pretty face by slamming her forehead into the bridge of his nose, dropping him to the floor. The redhead stood up, still bound to the chair as the two Danish thugs of the _Syv Dværge_ rushed her. The Highlander thrusted her foot forward, kicking one in the gut and knocking him back as the other swung at her, the Scottish lass ducking the haymaker as she twisted and struck him with the legs of the chair she was attached to, making the man stumbled forward. She took two steps towards the first thug, rotating and hitting him with the back of the chair as she slammed one of its feet into his toes, making him cry out in pain as she whipped her head back, smashing the back of her head into the brutes' face as she stood up and twirled with her chair, using the legs to hit the man in the back of the knee, tripping him to the ground. She moved to the second thug, who was approaching her, kneeing him in the crotch and then in the face, knocking him flat on his back as Merida jumped up and kicked forward to land with the chair on the Danish man, breaking the seat apart and mostly freeing her. The second thug came at her from behind as she stood up, his arms wrapping around her as her bound hands grabbed his pinkie finger, pulled it back towards the back of his hand and contorting his arm, the Dane screeching in pain as she kicked him in the gut and then in the face, sending him to the floor. Both thugs down, she finished undoing the knot binding her hands with her teeth, unwrapping the rope from around her wrists.

She turned to see _Kontraadmiral_ Hans Westergaard trying to flee the scene.

Merida picked up a chair leg while stepping on one end of the rope while holding the other end with her left hand, stretching up as far as it would go as she put the end of the chair leg in the middle of the length and drew it back, her green eyes narrowing at the fleeing figure as she jerked the cord with her left hand upward while letting go of the chair leg with its splintered end.

The leg impaled the man's back from a distance of thirty paces away, sending him screaming to the floor with a piece of furniture stuck in his back. Seeing all three men down, the Scotswoman nodded in satisfaction as she picked up her heels and walked out of the room, her dress train swishing at her ankles. She hadn't even needed to pull out the shortsword that was strapped to her thigh, she thought with amusement.

MacDonald exited the room to find Agent Michael Darling waiting patiently outside with a knowing smirk on his face, knowing better than to _try_ and help; he would have just gotten in the way. Beside him was a large leather case that looked like a giant letter 'D' with a circular tube with a host of feathered shafts sticking out of one end.

"Nice dress, by the way." Michael commented as Merida picked up the case and the quiver, sliding the tube over her head as she aligned its strap in between her bosom. The comment only had the Highlander snort; she had never been a dress kind of girl. "Parisian?"

"Venetian. Where's Annie?" Merida asked as she walked towards the wooden stairs that would lead to the first floor, Darling right behind her.

"We don't know." The Commander replied, his tone saying he knew what that meant to Merida.

"Is she alive? Was it Grigori Yefimovich?" The Scotswoman asked, her tone concerned. While few knew of the 'truth' of what happened to the Orphan four years prior involving a mystical faith healer who had inserted himself as an 'adviser' to the Tsar, the higher echelons of DISNEY knew to be quite wary of the man known as _Rasputin_.

"We think she's alive, and it most certainly wasn't the Charlatan." Michael reiterated. "I'll brief you once we get on the ship. But to clue you in, the Director wants you to talk to the walking catastrophe."

"Darling, you know that pretty lil' Frenchie poppinjay likes me about as far as she can throw me." Merida reminded the Agent when they worked together two years prior involving a rather hostile takeover of a certain international company.

"Oh, I get the little light bulb." Darling said with a smile. "_You_ get the walking catastrophe."

Merida stopped dead in her traces as she felt her face go pale and her blood run cold as she turned to look at Michael Darling when she realized _just_ who he was referring to.

"Oh bloody hell." The Highlander said, trying not to imagine having a conversation with a woman cursed by a Goddess.

* * *

Author's Notes: Now who could the walking catastrophe be?

**DISNEY FACT**: Merida of Clan DunBroch is the only Disney Princess who doesn't actually sing. There are two songs ("Touch The Sky" and "Into The Open Air") but neither are 'sung' by Merida's voice actress nor is she seen singing with a singing talent.

_MARVEL FACT_: Groot is the only Marvel character to officially be in a Disney-labeled movie (_Wreck-It Ralph 2_).

REAL-LIFE FACT: When _Wreck-It Ralph 2_ brings all the Disney Princesses in, the studio also brought back all of their _original_ voice talents save for Adriana Caselotti (who voiced Snow White), having passed away in 1997, and Ilene Woods (who voiced Cinderella), who passed away in 2010. That means that the voices of Aurora, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Pocahontas, Mulan, Rapunzel, Tiana, Elsa, and Moana were _all_ there, and considering that Mary Costa (who played Aurora) is 88? That's impressive.

Copenhagen occupies a small channel between Denmark and Scandinavia leading to the Baltic Sea, known as the _Ø__resund_ (pronounced Ur-ree-zhund). This narrow confluence is highly influential since it represents shorelines for Sweden, Norway, Germany, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, and Russia.

Hans Westergaard is, in fact, the antagonist from the movie _Frozen_, Hans of the Summer Isles. I also mention 'Weselton', who was Duke Weselton, the other antagonist from the same movie.

Claudo Frollo was mentioned as well, the Bishop from _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_.

The Danish Criminal Organization that I use is named _Syv Dværge_; this is Danish for 'Seven Dwarves'! ;-)

I bent time; the man born _Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin_, the infamous faith-healer/charlatan that was rather responsible for the end of Tsar Nicholas II, Tsarina Alexandra, and their children, was with the Royal Family of Russia from about 1906 until his brutal (and multiple-cause) assassination in 1916. To make the Orphan Black, her events (and Rasputin) happened thirty-four years prior. Rasputin was a monk, a faith-healer, and had a very close relationship with the Tsar and his family thanks to Tsarovich Alexi Nikoliovich's hemophilia, whom the family believed that Rasputin performed a miracle saving the boy (and Crown Prince) in 1906 after an internal hemorrhage episode. Rasputin was poisoned twice (once with cyanide in cakes, and later with arsenic in wine), shot, shot again (when they discovered he was alive and was fleeing) and ultimate suffered a gunshot wound to the forehead at close range). His body was tied to stones and dumped in a river to make sure he _stayed_ dead.

Yes, Merida made a make-shift bow and arrow out of a rope and a chairleg and _shot_ someone with it. Impossible, I know. But… funny!

Forward unto the next DISNEY AVENGER.

You're about to meet its greatest warrior.


	6. (All My Friends Are) Heathens, II

_Marvel Cinematic Universe is owned by Disney. So are the Royal Dirty Dozen._

**Daytime, 13 Miller's Court, Dorset Street, Spitalfields, Whitechapel District, London, England, September 6, 1888**

Author's Notes: Some of you Londoners and historians might recognize the address.

* * *

In a common lodgings dwelling in the high-crime area of Whitechapel District, Rear Admiral Jonathan Mel Smith walked into the basement room that was next to the boiler room where inside a woman practiced upon a _Wing Chun Muk Jong_, her hands and forearms striking the multi-limbed wooden training dummy to practice her _Wing Chun_ Kung Fu. The sound of flesh hitting wood filled the air as he walked into the room, standing to one side to watch the woman, wearing a simple robe fastened by a cloth belt around the waist, practice moves with lightning-quick strikes, grabs, grapples, blocks, and parries that would have had the other person utterly defeated in seconds. He had a hard time following the series of blocks and blows, both arms in motion, almost like snakes against the two upper pegs, the middle peg, and then a lower one that he suspected that represented a leg. The woman struck and blocked with hands, forearms, elbows, shins, knees, and feet, and the grace in her movements were only belied by her speed.

Smith would feel sorry for whomever thought to mug her. They would regret it for the rest of their lives; all four seconds of it.

The clattering of the wood as it was struck, smacked, blocked, hit, and grabbed ceased at the dark-haired woman stopped, taking a step back as dark eyes cast over where he stood, the sweat on her brow and plastering strands of her shoulder length hair against her smooth skin a testament to her training regime. As Smith understood it, she practiced several hours a day. _Every_ day.

"I'd be hard pressed to think of an individual in Europe who could come close to competing with you in any kind of martial or pugil-like ability." The Director told the woman as she moved over to a bowl filled with water and an accompanying pitcher and towel. She took the towel and dipped into the liquid before taking the pitcher and filling the jug with water before leaning her head over the bowl and pouring the water over her hair and head, letting the cascade of liquid sluice down her hair and face, running back into the bowl as the remains dripped down her face and hair. She then grabbed the wetted towel and dabbed it at the back of her neck before reaching into her robe and cleaning herself from within her own clothes, Smith politely ignoring it. So that was how she was able to get away with being in an army full of men, the Rear Admiral thought to himself. She hadn't been the only one to do such a thing, a few noted women in history having secreted themselves into fighting forces disguised as a man. Some weren't discovered, others had friends who covered for them.

The difference between those and the one standing before him was that this one had destroyed an army and had been honored by an Emperor. Amongst other things.

"There are those who have skill. I have seen boxers and street fighters since I've awoken." Hua Mulan spoke in a clipped Oriental accent as she picked up another towel, proceeding to dry her short, black hair. "Their way of fighting and their reasons for fighting may be different. But they take it with a level of seriousness that I recognize."

"Getting any sleep?" John asked softly. It had been six months since the woman hailed as the _Dynasty Warrior_ had been… 'thawed'; she had been a statue in the British Museum for twenty years, and a statue in a forgotten temple for over four hundred. Seeing a statue come to life and return as a flesh-and-blood woman had been a rather interesting event, especially considering _what_ she carried with her; two swords that were just as legendary as the woman herself.

"I slept for five centuries." Mulan replied, her tone not inviting any commentary. "I have been looking into that case you asked me to. That charming fellow who is butchering concubines." Ah, yes, that. "Tracking a man in a city, even a district, is much more difficult than it is in the field or over the plains. I fear that unless I am at the scene of the attack, I will not be of much help." Hua Mulan had been trained as an Army Scout, to foray ahead of the main force to find enemy positions, taking out their own scouts as well while reporting back movements, positions, composition, and weaponry. Considering that she had been facing a man almost a legendary as herself, Shan-Yu Khan, not to mention his witch-lover known as the _Y__ù__ W__ū__ Sh__ī_, precautions and strategies had been developed to counter the threat of the Mongolian invasion all those centuries ago. Smith had honestly put Hua on the _Jack the Ripper_ case mostly to give her something to do, to get her out in the city and the world. Poor girl (and she really was, at only nineteen years of age) would have just shut herself in save for the necessities. He hadn't expected much when Mulan wasn't accustomed to the environment of a very modern London when she hadn't even known English six months prior.

"He'll make a mistake, and the London Metropolitan or the Scotland Yard will catch up to him." Smith walked towards the Chinese woman as she finished drying her hair and then began drying her face. "You should reconnect with your people, Hua. Enjoy what we have to offer. See the world, even." When Hua Mulan defeated Shan-Yu Khan in one-on-one combat, driving the man's own sword into his belly before lopping off his head with it, his lover had been in a rage and cast a spell on the Dynasty Warrior, turning her to stone. The woman who had taken her fathers' place in defending her Kingdom had never gotten the chance to go home.

"When we broke into the Emperor's Palace to rescue him and engage Shan-Yu and _Y__ù__ W__ū__ Sh__ī_," Mulan began, looking at the bowl in front of her, "my world was the army, my friends were my family, my home the battlefield. For four years I fought for my Dynasty and our glorious Emperor, knowing no other life." Her dark eyes looked troubled, haunted. "I wake up in a strange country filled with strange people who told me I won. They forgot what I had lost."

"It's the price of duty, I'm afraid." Smith said as he stood within arm's reach of the tiny Chinese woman as she finished drying her face, seeing her look at him. "Soldiers, sailors, men and women who take up that cause know that it could bring us all to a quick and terrible end. But who then if not for us? Where would we be if we didn't stand to fight for what we love against those who would take what they want?" That had the woman nod slowly as John reminded himself as to why he was there. "Speaking of those taking what they want, I'm afraid I'm going to need your help, Hua."

"Are you in need for me to track someone?" Mulan asked, placing the soiled town upon a chair as she faced the Director.

"I am." He had in his hands a leather folio with parchment detailing all that she needed to know and more.

"Trying to get me back into the world of the living again, I see." Ah, so she had figured out why he had put her on the Ripper case. She hadn't disapproved of it, at the least.

"Trying to _save_ the world of the living again, I'm afraid." The Rear Admiral replied as he undid the leather cord that kept the leather flaps together as he opened it like a book before turning it about and handing it to the Oriental woman. She looked casually over until her dark eyes flashed upon the first piece of parchment that was made available in the binder, her face frozen as her eyes smoldered upon the black-and-white photograph and the subject of the picture. Notes upon it were scribbled by fountain pen where the picture had been attached to the piece of vellum, the photograph being able to be flipped up to read all the notes and discovery concerning the object that the Directorate of Intelligence and Supply, Nautical Enforcement Yard called _Project: HELIOS_.

"Shan-Yu's mystical weapon." Mulan breathed out as she took to the nearby chair with her hands on the portfolio, looking at the photograph that showed what looked to be a brass lamp of Persian origin. Smith knew that DJINN was _old_, though while he wasn't quite sure just how old. The legend said that even Alexander of Macedonia had known of the tale when he went eastward. That same legend spoke of a being, powerful and terrible, that hordes of men, magicians, mystics, and monsters had fought it to contain it in a prison, never to be released. No one (alive or in any ancient text) had any idea what was actually inside that lamp save that the survivors _couldn't_ kill the being in question, and feared it so that they erased its name from existence for _all_ eternity. It had appeared in history a few times, such has when it had been unburied in a cave by a thief somewhere in modern-day India a thousand years or more prior, as well as when it somehow got into the hands of Shan-Yu Khan back when the New World was being discovered. It had supposedly been lost on the same day Mulan decapitated the warlord and was turned to stone by the Jade Sorceress, only to disappear for centuries.

"A French soldier by the name of Pierre-François Bouchard discovered it in Rashid, Egypt in 1799, during the Napoleonic Campaign against the Ottoman Empire. Whatever thought about what he had captured it in 1801, the French, and especially Ol' Bonny, never knowing what they had." Smith explained, having known as much of the history of DJINN as possible. That such a powerful vessel had come to be in the hands of General Bonaparte had been the reason that Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson swept into Egypt to take on the French in the battle that earned him the title 'the Wolf of the Nile'. Of course, the Hornblower hadn't been alone in his fear when he discovered what Napoleon had found, and had called for some rather unusual aid in the form of a waterborne princess. "With technology improving every year and the ability to make power out of steam becoming more refined, we believed that DJINN could be used as a power source, not as a weapon. That's something that we as a Kingdom could use considering we are an island and surrounded by multiple navies." There was more to it than that, but it was as good an explanation without getting into every gritty detail. "It was stolen from us last night off the coast of Calais, France."

"By whom?" Mulan asked as she closed the portfolio, looking at him instead. Her spoken English was accented and decent, but _reading_ English? Mandarin use a completely different alphabet, and likely it was lost on her.

"She calls herself Kida. She's… a little difficult to explain." Even the Admiralty had been skeptical when they had multiple reports spanning almost a century about the existence of Atlantis, the mythological lost continent that disappeared beneath the waves some five thousand years prior in a night of calamity and woe. Mulan had never even heard of the legend that they all had grown up with, never having Greek or Roman foundations in China. "There's a great deal we'll have to explain to you so you understand better what's going on if you're interested."

The Oriental woman merely looked away in thought, contemplating.

"I'm afraid that the world has gotten even more unbelievable than even you might consider." Smith told Hua, knowing full well the legend of the Dynasty Warrior, who was said to have tamed a dragon and _ridden_ it to battle to defeat Shan-Yu's armies. He hadn't asked if that were true or not.

"I would be shocked if anything surprises me anymore." Mulan replied, turning to face him once more, her eyes troubled.

"Ten quid says I just might." John smiled, shocking the dark-eyed woman for a moment, and just for a brief moment, there was a smile there, a quirk of the lips that said that despite the troubles she had faced and the trials she had endured, the daughter who had taken the place of her father to fight for honor and country was still very much alive within her. "Take the portfolio and read it. I… had it translated into Mandarin in case you had trouble reading English. Look over it tonight." Mulan stood up, leather folio in hand. Smith turned to leave, but then thought of something.

"Is there anything you know of about DJINN that we should know?"

Hua Mulan looked to Smith's remaining eye, her own hard, flat, and unrevealing.

"Next time, bury it under a mountain."

* * *

It was near night when Hua Mulan finally returned to her rented single-room apartment, the sight of it having her heart ache at the memory of her home back in _Chi_ _Na_, remembering a home constructed out of wood and love. This… flat, as the English called it, was made of the same materials but not for the same purpose. She had spent her day in two different places, her two most-visited locations. The first being London's 'Chinatown', where Oriental immigrants congregated over the past couple decades and turned a few block area into a sad representation of a home so far to her. Yet the sight of Mandarin, along with even other languages she had never heard of that came from the continent men called _Asia_ was a bittersweet reminder of what she had fought for and yet lost. There were bakers, restaurants, and even training floors for kung fu, and the smells and the sound of her language was but a small taste of all she had lost.

She had also gone to the British Museum, which had ironically been her home for something like twenty years when the British decided that she was a piece of memorabilia that needed relocating. She shouldn't complain too badly; if she had remained in China, she would still be a stone statue left in a mostly-forgotten and dilapidated temple, her life and sacrifice now mere poetry and her statue only visited by rodents and critters. At least the British had her displayed public and her story known in a manner she found honorable for the British and the museums' visitors could look upon and wonder. As Mulan understood it, she had been a rather popular attraction, the woman soldier known as _the Dynasty Warrior_ poised in battle, armed with two swords that couldn't be removed from her grasp, armored in full, and looking every inch the warrior she was. Brass plates telling her story (rather accurately) had described the highlights of her life to the amusement of the British, but as Hua understood it, there had been a Frenchwoman a few centuries prior that had been noted for liberating her country as well, someone name Sjone or Joan.

And it had been because a little boy who had tried to draw one of her swords, clambering on her display to touch the hilt of her fathers' sword (the little bastard!) that had broken the spell cast upon her by the _Y__ù__ W__ū__ Sh__ī_, turning stone to flesh much to the amazement of a few dozen visitors and not a few security guards. That had been a rather awkward day considering someone had to go find someone who knew both Mandarin and English for her to understand that she _hadn't_ been kidnapped by strange folk with oddly-colored skin.

"Hey, Hua."

"Hello, Mary." Mulan turned to see her next door neighbor, a roughhouse woman who got a bit loud and violent when drinking by the name of Mary Kelly. She was of a pretty sort (for an Englishwoman), still possessing all of her teeth and a fleshy bosom that she liked to prop up and display. Mary seemed not to have a husband at twenty-five years of age (somehow _spinster_ wasn't a thing anymore) or any children, and while she didn't seem to have a job, had a fair deal of men coming into her room next-door every night; a concubine, though there was a different word used. "I believe you have another note from your paramour. That painter with the muddy scenes." _Modern_ art made no sense to Hua, though she liked going through the museum and looking at different portraits and paintings. They were like little windows where one could see places one had never been to, such as mountains, valleys, seas, and even cities. Mulan loved the Museum. Fitting, since she had been a part of it.

"Walt? How sweet of him." The concubine smiled, thankfully not reeking of liquor. The British had some odd traditions about morality rules. One was not allowed to kiss in public for some reason, though it seemed that the Whitechapel District (despite the name meaning 'clean' and 'church' according to a dictionary by Webster Hua had purchased) practically had the worst parts of London stuffed in it. One could find homeless people, men and women going at it in corners and alleyways, muggings, stabbings, drunks rolling about the stone streets, backalley fights, and plain murder. And they called her medieval? Her first night living in Whitechapel some low man pulled a knife on her and demanded money from her. She broke seventeen of his bones in ten seconds and left him laying on the ground. "Did you visit the Museum again?"

"I did." Mulan remembered the first time she mentioned visiting the British Museum that Mary Kelly, a born Irishwoman living in London itself, had never gone. "I am looking through the Egyptian displays. The pictures of the Great Pyramids of Giza were certainly something." She still had a hard time believing that structures could be built so tall. There were building in London that loomed straight up and down, and Mulan had to admit that looking up at them had her wonder if they swayed in the breeze like trees did. "So many cultural artifacts from so many places in the world. It truly is a wonder."

"That's because we're the best country in the world, 'gel." Mary said with a toothsome smile.

Hua Mulan decided not to disabuse the woman of her fantasy.

* * *

Author's Notes: Do you have any idea how hard it was to concoct a way of making Steve Rogers and Hua Mulan having the same premise? Lots of explaining to do.

**DISNEY FACT**: Hua Mulan is the only Disney Princess that is never royalty, either by birth or possible marriage. Her 'boyfriend', Li Sheng, isn't either nobility or royalty, but a Captain in the Dynast's army. She's also the first Disney Princess to be armed. The movie titles her first name as 'Fu', but historically, it's 'Hua'.

_MARVEL FACT_: The first female Avenger is Janet Van Dyne/The Wasp. She would actually lead the team for several years while dealing with Doctor Hank Pym's unbalanced mental issues and alcoholism.

REAL-LIFE FACT: Ming-Na Wen, the voice actress who does Mulan's speaking voice, portrays Mulan in the movie _Mulan_, _Mulan II_, the video game _Kingdom Hearts II_, the animated series _Sophia the First_, and finally _Wreck-It Ralph 2: Ralph Breaks The Internet_. She also portrays in two other _Disney_ franchises: Melinda May in _Agents of SHIELD_, and Fennec Shand in _The Mandalorian_.

So, to explain the _Dynasty Warrior_.

I followed the script of the movie _Mulan_ in which Shen-Yu (the bad guy) is invading China around the later 1400's instead of 600AD. But he has a sorceress companion in _Y__ù__ W__ū__ Sh__ī_, which is Mandarin for 'Jade Sorceress'. I also mention that Mulan is turned into a statue. This is taken from the legend of Sun Wokong, known as the Monkey King, who was imprisoned in stone for five hundred years. In the movie _Forgotten Kingdom_, the Jade Warlord cursed the Monkey King into a statue, though in legend Sun Wokong was buried in stone by the Buddha. I took a mixture of these to create how Mulan might be alive in 1888; she was turned to a statue after a vicious fight with Shen-Yu, in which she decapitated him. Then his girlfriend turned her into a statue. Later on, the British find her statue, discover that its an 'artifact' of the legendary _Dynasty Warrior_, and have it moved to the British Museum to display like so many artifacts. Then I did a _Sword In The Stone_ movie where a young boy (Wart?) tries to pull one of her swords (one is her fathers, made from metal made from a meteor, and the other was Shen-Yu's, which is magical), and breaks the spell.

I have a rough outline known as _The Dynasty Warrior: The First Marvel_ that explains Mulan joining the army, her fathers' sword (which is special), and the fight that accumulates with her beating Shen-Yu but being frozen in time by _Y__ù__ W__ū__ Sh__ī_.

The _Muk Jong_ is a Kung Fu training dummy that one can see in Jackie Chan's _Rumble In The Bronx_, and probably a few dozen martial arts movies.

To come up with a _Captain America_ name, I went for the name of a video game; _Dynasty Warrior_, in which there were about eight of them? It involved an awesome warrior plowing through crunchies like so much wheat. That's what I see Mulan doing. Plus it's a pretty totes awesome name. Making her a museum piece in the British Museum was just fun!

Since Captain America dealt with the Tesseract before, I had Mulan deal with the DJINN before, claiming it to be "Shen-Yu's mystical weapon". In my outline, Shen-Yu was trying not only be Emperor, but a God, too.

Pierre-François Bouchard is the man credited for finding the Rosetta Stone. I turned it's history into the magic lamps'.

I also mention what might be inside the DJINN; a possible God or God-like entity. You will see more of this later.

Director Smith put Mulan on the trail of Jack the Ripper? 1888 was the year of the infamous Whitechapel Murders, and actually the date is two days prior to the famous 'double event' where victims number three and four (Elizabeth Stride and Katherine Eddows) were murdered less than an hour apart, within blocks of one another.

And yes, Mary Kelly is victim number five, the most gruesome of the Rippers' victims. And Mulan is her next-door neighbor.

Forward to the Queen of Steam, the daughter of a crackpot inventor! Be sure to say _bonjour_ when you see her, our most eccentric mademoiselle!


End file.
